Stargaze
by D-chan
Summary: Gojyo x Hakkai :: Gojyocentric fluff, language, shounen ai :: gift for Minasensei :: The end of the journey finds Gojyo in a reflective mood, and thankfully things are finally starting to look brighter for him...


**:: Stargaze ::**

_Gensomaden__ Saiyuki_

Disclaimer: I don't own Gensomaden Saiyuki, which rightfully belongs to Minekura Kazuya.

Rating: PG

Pairings: Gojyo/Hakkai, mentioned Sanzo/Goku

Warnings: PWP, Gojyo-centric fluff, mild angst, language, shounen ai, briefly mentioned incest, bad philosophy dissection on the author's part

Notes: This is actually a gift dedicated to my online writing mentor, Mina-sensei. Or rather... a late prize for something she won quite a while ago. ^^;

Doesn't really have much plot, just some character introspection and 58 fluff. It could be seen as a sidefic to _Treasure_ since a few things parallel what I wrote in this fic. Although... this one's a lot shorter, mostly because I seem to have trouble with Gojyo and/or Hakkai-centric fics...

Anyway, just something else for me to add to the fandom. I hope you, Mina-sensei, especially enjoy it. Constructive criticism and feedback appreciated.

--

_All of us are in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars._

The thought was a bit random, though not entirely. It made him pause before he flicked his thumb over the lighter, bringing the tiny flame to the cigarette in his mouth. His gaze was turned up, toward the darkened sky. Perhaps it was that very image that had brought the phrase to mind: him, lying on the ground, one arm tucked beneath his head as he stared at the night sky. Pinpricks of light glimmered down, scattered widely over the vastness above him.

Where had that thought come from? It certainly wasn't in his words; it sounded a lot more like Hakkai. Perhaps it had been in one of Hakkai's books or something. Yeah. That made more sense.

Gojyo pulled the cigarette from his lips, blowing smoke above him. It obscured his vision a bit, but cleared quickly. He wasn't sure how he felt right then-- or rather, he was feeling so many things it was hard to pick just one. He felt relieved, calm, drained of his usual tension, unusually thoughtful... and not depressed or upset in any way.

It was sort of... peaceful.

He wasn't used to peaceful, but he found that in the aftermath of such a huge battle... he liked it. It was refreshing after all that chaos for the past couple of years-- nearly three years of nonstop chaos. Some serenity once in a while was good.

Hopefully it wouldn't last _too_ long, of course. Life would be way too boring if everything was constantly at calm.

_Wonder why that came to me, anyway?_ he mused, taking another drag from the cigarette. Any tension in him was gradually draining due to the nicotine, making him feel a lot more relaxed than he could ever remember feeling. Even his childhood had been filled with anxiety, wondering if his mother would find him at every turn and start crying again. His fingers trailed over his left cheek, tracing the two scars, scars left by her, in her memory, from the day she'd nearly killed him.

It didn't hurt as much as it used to, thinking about it. Perhaps this journey had done some good in that sense; Gojyo had been through a lot, as had they all. He, personally, had gone through many instances that had reminded him of his painful childhood, and the blood spilled always reminded him of his taboo eyes and hair. The illusion of his mother (he still damned Kami-sama for such a sick joke) was one of the strongest memories of this trip, but it had also, in a way, helped him immensely. Somehow facing and defeating her, even if it was just an illusion, had taken away a margin of the pain in his soul. At the time he hadn't realized it, but it had been his first step to accepting and living with his past.

He reached up again, this time to tug on the crimson strands. Still red, the same deep red as always. It would never change, no matter how long it grew and no matter how many times he cut it. Gojyo supposed he could earn enough money (through gambling, of course; how else?) to get his hair dyed, but that would only be a temporary solution. The hair would _always_ grow back red. He was minding it less and less, and by now it only caused strong discomfort rather than severe emotional pain.

Yes, Gojyo would say that was a definite improvement.

_In the gutter,_ he found himself thinking, still unable to shake the phrase from his mind. Well, why should he? It wasn't like he had any pressing matters to attend to; Hakkai had gone off to find Sanzo, the dumb monkey was probably with said irate priest, and Gojyo's only company was the cigarette dangling from his fingers.

A gutter. Wasn't that was his life had been like? Dirty, something that outsiders wouldn't dare touch for fear of it rubbing off on them somehow. It wasn't just his mother he'd had to deal with, but the scorn of both humans and demons for not being either race. The only love he'd received was from his older brother, but he'd lost even that the day his mother had been killed... and by the very same brother. It wasn't hard to agree that Gojyo's past and a gutter were very compatible.

And he knew it wasn't just his past; all four of them had their own difficulties and ghosts to deal with, all varying different levels of pain. Of the other three he knew of Hakkai's best; the man rarely hesitated to open up to him since the first time he had told Gojyo of his sins. _That_ memory Gojyo recalled with a mixture of fondness and regret: fondness for the early times they had shared together, before they had even given out their names, and regret for both of them, for thinking blood was the only thing coloured red.

Hadn't Sanzo rebuked them for that? Gojyo snorted, flicking ashes from the end of the cigarette before glancing at the short stub left. He ground it out into the ground, not bothering to find an ashtray since he was outside anyway.

_But some of us are looking at the stars,_ he recalled the last half of the line being. It took a brief moment's thought, but he quickly came to the simple conclusion it simply meant that not everyone _in_ the gutter would be facedown. Gojyo was very well aware, almost achingly so, that he had once been like that; stuck in the gutter, staring into the endless swirl of filth and mud, refusing to reach out and grasp even a glimmer of hope that dangled near him. That had changed, of course, but change took time. It always did.

It felt nice, really, having hope. It was hope that had gotten them through this rough final battle, hope that had forced them to go on with gritty determination. It was the hope for life, the sheer, desperate wanting to _live_ that had kept them from losing.

That wasn't to say it was easy; all of them would be sporting bruises, even some scars from this fight. It hadn't been all punches and kicks like it had been with the early demons; there had been some definite mind-fucking in there, several tests of wills, and most definitely tests on the mind. In reality, the latter two had hurt far more than any other injury. But again, that was where hope had come through; without it they surely would have lost.

Gojyo was just relieved it was all over.

The gentle sound of footsteps made him push himself up on his elbows, ignoring the pain in his ribs the movement caused him. Tilting his head back until his hair brushed the ground, Gojyo found his lips twitching into a smirk when he saw who it was.

"Found them?" he asked casually.

"Outside, on the complete other side of the fortress," Hakkai replied, his ever-present smile lingering on his lips as he took a seat next to the half-breed. "It appears that no one wants to stay inside, doesn't it?"

"Well, it does reek horribly," Gojyo muttered, pushing some strands from his eyes before he settled back again, both arms tucked beneath him. "And not just the blood, either." He shot the brunette a meaningful look.

Though he wasn't looking at him, Hakkai didn't miss the meaning. "I think I understand what you mean," he said delicately. "It's not the ideal place for those opposing the resurrection of Gyuumaoh to stay in."

Gojyo smirked. "Opposed," he corrected. "He's beyond dead now, to hell and back by this point."

Chuckling a bit, Hakkai agreed. "Hopefully not back, of course."

The laugh had sounded a bit tired. Gojyo didn't miss it, of course, but he decided not to comment on it at the moment. "Not anytime soon, anyway," he said. Of course, that was a bit of a joke; at the moment the _last_ thing he wanted was to deal with a twice-revived demon king. Yes, Gyuumaoh hadn't been properly or fully revived in the first place, what with them rushing it a bit, and that had admittedly been their edge in winning the battle (and, in this case, the war) but Gojyo was _not_ eager to do it again. Judging by Hakkai's smile, he could tell the man wasn't exactly thrilled by the idea, either.

Gojyo rolled his head a bit, working out a stiff muscle in his neck. He cringed a bit but felt a little better afterward. Blinking up at the sky again, the phrase returned to his mind. That was just annoying; he'd already spent adequate time thinking about it, so why was it still bothering him?

_Hell,_ he thought with an inner scoff. _I must be out to ruin my good mood..._

"Yo, Hakkai."

"Yes?"

Gojyo arched his neck again, still feeling a bit sore. He loosened an arm so he could reach with his hand, trying to rub the stiffness out. "Does this mean anything to you? _We're all in the gutter, but some of us are facing the stars..._ or something like that," he added with a vague wave of his free hand.

"It does, though your paraphrase isn't entirely accurate," Hakkai said calmly. "It's a fairly memorable quote, though the name of the writer escapes me at the moment."

He smirked. "You, unable to remember?" he teased lightly, closing his eyes. "That's rare."

"I am a bit tired," Hakkai murmured.

"I can tell." With a long, languid stretch and a loud sigh, Gojyo finally pushed himself into a sitting position, bringing him much closer to Hakkai's temporary height. He only had a couple inches on the man, but it was enough to be of noticeable difference. "So, did the stupid monkey or Holier Than Thou monk say anything 'bout the trip back?"

"Not to me."

Gojyo blinked, turning his head to look at the man. Hakkai gazed back, his visible eye calm and tired, but still clearly portraying honest amusement. It only took a moment for Gojyo to put the pieces together.

"Geez. Well, it's about damn time they did something about it," he muttered, reaching to pat his pockets for his pack of cigarettes. "It's too damn annoying being the cheerleader. Puts a dent in wooing the ladies, you know. They start to get the wrong idea about you."

He finally did find the cigarettes, but nearly dropped them in surprise as Hakkai laughed. It wasn't as tired as it had been a few minutes ago; in fact, it's strength had been what started Gojyo more than the laugh itself. He tried not to let it show, but no doubt Hakkai could tell anyway.

"Are they really getting the wrong idea, Gojyo?" Hakkai asked, shooting him a sideways glance with his good eye.

The man made a small sound of annoyance, pulling a lighter from his pocket and cupping his hand so he could light the cigarette. Only after it was lit and the first drag was taken did he speak. "It doesn't count with you." He paused to empty the smoke from his lungs. "That's completely different."

"Oh?" From the corner of his eye, he noted Hakkai's raised eyebrow. "I certainly hope that doesn't mean you think of me as a woman, Gojyo."

The redhead made a face. "Please. You're pretty, but not _that_ pretty. That damn monk is ten times more feminine than you. I swear, it looks like he primps himself every morning," he grumbled, nibbling on the end of his cigarette.

A few moments of silence passed between them. Gojyo mulled over the conversation during that time, searching for a way to phrase the words properly. Unlike Sanzo and Goku, he and Hakkai had no qualms talking about these things. They were (somewhat) mature adults, at an age to realize the differences amongst attraction, lust, and love. And besides, when it was just Hakkai he didn't mind talking about it; it was around nearly everyone else that he hated doing it. Goku would just call him weird or start yelling and teasing him loudly. Sanzo... they could hardly carry on a polite conversation, much less an in depth, serious one. And all the women he slept with, what did they care? None of them would be able to fully understand him or his past...

Hakkai, however, wasn't a dumb monkey, short-tempered monk, or a random woman he slept with. Hakkai was... more than that. Somehow.

"S'because," he finally started, choosing his words deliberately and with unusual care. "Even if you were a woman, you'd still be you." _Except for the random mood swings,_ he added silently. Then he grimaced as he realized that Hakkai as a woman would be far, far more formidable an opponent than he already was.

As though sensing his train of thought and his not wanting to follow it any further, Hakkai spoke up. "I know what you mean." That didn't surprise Gojyo; he just arched an eyebrow, more out of amusement than anything else, and smirked. Hakkai returned it with a genuine though still tired smile.

"Good to know we understand each other so well, then," Gojyo drawled.

"Yes," Hakkai agreed, and they left it at that.

Afterward it was a silence that reminded Gojyo of old times, back when he had first met Hakkai. He had been known as Gonou then, though it took Gojyo over a month to find that out. It was the sort of quiet that would settle when Gojyo would break out the cards. Hakkai would beat him nearly every time -- even now Gojyo suspected that his losses were only because Hakkai went easy on him -- but Gojyo had never truly resented him for it. After all, a game of cards was a game of cards; there was nothing hugely important about it.

It was also the silence of a comfortable dinner, during a typical day of errand-running, right before the swift movement that brought on a brief time of pleasure. In short, Gojyo simply felt more at ease with Hakkai than anyone, trusted Hakkai more than anyone, and by now could admit to himself that he cared about him far more deeply than anyone else.

Not that he would say it aloud. They didn't mind talking about more personal things, but each had his own limit-- Gojyo included.

Without warning -- he honestly hadn't thought ahead; it was purely impulse -- Gojyo slung an arm over the man's shoulders, removing the cigarette and holding it aside as they kissed. It wasn't intense; he could still tell Hakkai was tired, and he was honestly feeling too relaxed to get worked up anyway. But it was good; it was enough.

And that was another thing, he thought dryly as it ended. Unlike many women, Hakkai never complained about the taste of nicotine or alcohol, and unlike some that _didn't_ complain, he never went out of his way to hint that he did. If anything, he seemed to accept it as a part of him.

"Go to sleep already," Gojyo said lazily, pulling back so he could smoke without getting the stuff in Hakkai's face. "You've been working harder than the rest of us, haven'tcha?"

Running a hand through his hair, just another sign of his exhaustion, Hakkai shot him a faintly amused look. "Outside?"

"Better than in there, isn't it?"

"Point taken," Hakkai agreed. He fell silent after that, and when Gojyo looked again the man was already asleep. He couldn't blame Hakkai; he had to be completely drained by now.

_After this... where to?_ he wondered idly, snuffing out the cigarette. The obvious choice was to go back, but after traveling for so long it was certainly going to feel strange...

He smirked to himself. _Maybe we can't get out of the damn gutter, but that doesn't mean we have to stay in the same place the whole time._

It was definitely something to consider. In the morning. Gojyo stretched out on the ground, tucking his hands comfortably behind his head. In the morning everything would be dealt with as they should be.

So under the soft gaze of the stars, Gojyo had the most comfortable rest he could remember.


End file.
